The Lady's Choice (20 page)

She stood, dropping the brush to the floor, and Ramón hurried to her and drew her into his arms.

‘My love, I am sorry,' he said, his eyes clouded with fear and guilt.

His fear scared Benae more than her situation. She held him at arm's length. ‘None of this is your fault, Ramón. There is no need to apologise.'

‘There may be more need than you imagine.'

He was not making any sense to her. ‘Whatever do you mean? However much you wished Jiseve dead, this had nothing to do with you.'

He clutched her fingers. Hard. ‘I want you to know that I never did wish your husband dead. You have to believe that.'

Benae heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I know you would not wish him harm, not truly. You are a good man, and I love you for it.'

Her words seemed to distress him all the more.

‘What is it, Ramón?'

‘There is something I must tell you. I have kept enough secrets in my life to know that I cannot hide this from you.'

‘Tell me,' she snapped. ‘You are making me afraid.'

He drew a deep breath. ‘I went to a witch for help.'

‘Tell me you did not have anything to do with Jiseve's sudden collapse.'

Ramón walked away from her and stood staring at the flames. She stalked up to him, grabbed him and spun him to face her. ‘Tell me, Ramón!'

‘I cannot.'

Benae gasped. A shudder ripped through her body and her hands clutched his arms for support. She stared at her squire, desperate to find some sign that he jested with her but his eyes held only guilt and self-loathing. ‘Are you telling me that your actions led to Jiseve's death?'

‘Goddess, Benae, I do not know.' He tore himself from her grasp and began to pace backwards and forwards across the small chamber. ‘I could not stand to see you injured, to know he pounded at you night after night and with my babe at risk. I went to Hetty for help. All I asked for was something to stop him abusing you.'

Horror flooded Benae. She panted, unable to take a proper breath. Her head spun and she clutched the back of an armchair for support. ‘What did she do?'

‘She might not even be a witch, beloved.'

‘Tell me,' she ground out.

‘She bade me purchase a gift for his birthday.'

‘The signet ring!'

‘Yes. She enchanted it so that he could not complete the act. Or so I thought.'

‘And the very first night that he wore it, he died.' Benae's throat closed over and dark spots danced before her eyes. She staggered around the chair and sat. Ramón poured a glass of dark red wine and placed it in her hands.

‘Drink, it will ease your fright.'

‘How could you meddle like this?'

‘You asked for help. What did you expect?'

‘Certainly not this!'

‘A man does not stand by and watch his lady abused. His pregnant lady. I was desperate!'

‘That much is quite clear!' Benae tried to sort through her jumbled thoughts. In her weakness she had relied on Ramón and this was what it had come to. Where was his judgement, not to mention hers? She could not deal with him now; she had to have time to consider the revelation that her lover might have killed her husband. ‘Leave me. I do not wish to see you until I call for you.'

‘What will you do?'

‘I must wait for the physician's verdict. My pregnancy may save me if his judgment goes against me. I will say the babe is Jiseve's.' She stared at the man who had been her most precious gift. ‘No one will say otherwise.' She watched his eyes harden and steeled her heart to stop it breaking.

‘If that is what you wish.'

‘It is.' A dozen questions lined up in her mind but she did not know how to give voice to them. Ramón was no longer the man she had fallen in love with. She felt she had never really known him.

‘Then I will take your leave.' He bowed and left through the secret passage without a backward glance. The wall closed with a dull thud that was echoed in her heart, but all that mattered now was her babe. Ramón had interfered and in so doing he might have risked everything: his life, their babe's and hers. Jiseve was dead and nothing could change that, but his death might change everything.

Benae cleared her throat for what seemed the hundredth time since she had been ushered into Brightcastle's small audience chamber by the king's chamberlain. Beniel Zialni had arrived the day before with a small attachment of his own staff and taken over the running of the castle. Benae's stomach churned so much that she had not been able to eat breakfast, but now she regretted the lack of food in her stomach. Her head spun whenever she rose too quickly and the high neck of her black satin mourning gown seemed to choke her.

She stood carefully, made her way over to the tea tray and poured herself a cup. Underlying her terror of the future was annoyance that the king had assumed control without as much as a by-your-leave. And the queen had not come with him: a sure sign that this was not a visit to support grieving relatives but a monarch tending to the business of the kingdom. It did not bode well, and neither did Beniel's cold attitude towards her. He had not mentioned Jiseve, had not offered his sympathy. He blamed her, suspected her and probably hated her.

The door behind her opened and Benae steeled herself to meet the king, but it was Ramón who entered. He froze when he saw her. ‘What are you doing here?' she asked, hating the tension in her voice. She inhaled deeply to regain her composure.

‘I was asked to attend the king.'

‘I hardly think he would have meant you to present yourself at this hour. I have an audience with him now.'

‘Think what you like, Princess.'

How far things had deteriorated between them. Four days ago, Benae could never have imagined feeling betrayed by Ramón, would never have believed that he could speak to her with such indifference, coldness. But that had been before she learned of Hetty and the ring, before she knew that Ramón might be partly responsible for placing her life and her child's in this position, before she told him that she would declare Jiseve the father. She must do what she could to safeguard her babe. ‘Can I trust in your discretion when I inform His Majesty of my pregnancy?' She gripped the handle of her teacup so tightly it was a miracle the fragile china did not break.

A muscle tensed in his jaw. She focused on that rather than meet his accusing azure gaze. It was not
her
fault that Jiseve was dead. He had meddled and now she must deal with the king.

‘I will hold my silence,' Ramón said, ‘but it is a bitter pill to swallow.'

She chose to ignore the second part of his answer. ‘Thank you.' The words were drawn from her almost against her will. The door opened and King Beniel swept in. Benae shivered at the chill in his sharp blue eyes. The look he gave her and then Ramón spoke volumes.

Forgetting her infirm body, Benae swept a curtsey and staggered against Ramón, who grasped her arm to steady her. She cried out in pain at the pressure of his hand against her bruises.
Goddess, would her shame be exposed for the kingdom to judge?

King Beniel's eyes bored into her as he took a seat on the small throne that sat on the dais. ‘It pains me to visit under these circumstances,' he said, ‘but there are questions that need asking and decisions to make. I did not imagine mere weeks ago that your wedding was the last time I would see my brother alive.'

Benae's breath caught at the pain in his voice. She must not forget that he had loved Jiseve.

‘I could not have anticipated this sorry circumstance either, Your Majesty. Your brother was a fit man and had everything to look forward to.'

‘And yet I have just seen his corpse. I can't help but suspect foul play. Did you have anything to do with my brother's death, Princess?'

Benae wanted to cringe, to close her eyes, to run from the room. Instead, she clenched her teeth and met his gaze. ‘I did not, Your Majesty, except that he died in the act of love. I was of course present.'

Beniel frowned, his eyes running over her. He rose and stepped off the dais, stood before her. ‘What ails you?'

Terror gripped Benae's gut and she felt the blood drain from her face. ‘I am perfectly well, sire.'

‘You are ill. You nearly fell a moment ago and then cried in pain when the squire gripped your arm. Why?'

‘It is just grief, Your Majesty. I have not been eating well.'

‘Raise your sleeve,' he said, his voice as cold as the mountain passes.

Benae's fists clenched, instinct rebelling against the order.
I have no choice. I must do as he says.
Slowly, she pulled the sleeve up to reveal her black and swollen elbow.

Beniel's eyes bulged. ‘How did you come by your injury?'

She remained quiet, unsure how to tell the king that his brother had abused her. Would he even believe her?

‘I will not repeat my question,' Beniel roared, making Benae jump. Her heart skittered like a mouse in fear of the kitchen cat.

‘Jiseve,' she said.

‘What do you mean, Jiseve?'

Benae squared her shoulders and met the king's hostile gaze. ‘Jiseve did this. He tied me to his bed and tortured me during our coupling.' She pulled her other sleeve up and then bared her ankles. ‘There are more I cannot show you.'

It was clear Beniel did not accept what he was seeing. ‘Tortured? Why would he need to torture you? You are his wife. There must be some other explanation – punishment for some infidelity?' He turned to Ramón. ‘I seem to remember rumours of impropriety involving you and the lady when you visited Wildecoast.'

Benae stepped forward. ‘Do not blame Ramón for Jiseve's cruelty. I am sorry I must destroy your good feelings towards your brother but you must understand this.'

‘That is exactly what I am trying to do.'

‘Just listen, please.' Benae quashed the guilt that reared at keeping the whole truth from her brother-in-law. ‘Jiseve's abuse started on our marriage night. We never made love without the straps. He would bite me, especially on the breasts, then he gagged me when I cried out. I think the torture excited him, helped him complete the act; at least that is what I told myself.'

Beniel was quiet for a long time. When he raised his eyes to her, she saw hate in them.
He will take Jiseve's side then.

‘
If
my brother tortured you, you had ample reason to want him dead.'

‘I did not kill Jiseve, Your Majesty, you must believe me.'

‘The squire then.' He turned to Ramón. ‘I would hazard a guess you knew about these marital problems. You would not stand by and allow a woman to be thus abused. Is there anything you wish to tell me?'

Now Benae bit the inside of her lip. How would Ramón avoid incriminating himself? Or would he admit his actions? She could not bear to lose him too, despite the animosity that now stood between them.

‘Yes, I knew and I wanted to help but I did not wish the prince to die. He was my patron and I owed him much.'

‘And yet you made free with his lady.'

Benae could not help her gasp of surprise but Ramón stood calm in the face of the accusation.

‘Rumour only, Your Majesty,' Ramón said.

‘What occurred in the hut that night of the storm?'

‘We took refuge. We did nothing wrong.'

Benae had to admire Ramón's composure. She hated being in this position; feeling her way through these questions.

The king turned to Benae. ‘Something upset Jiseve before his marriage to you, lady. He was a changed man when I visited for the ceremony.' His sharp gaze wandered from her to Ramón and back.

Benae went on the attack. ‘Did you ask my husband what was wrong, Your Majesty?'

Beniel paused, frowning. ‘I did. He declined to answer. He assured me all was well. But I know my brother.' He cleared his throat. ‘Rather, I knew my brother, and he was hiding something. I can't help feeling it is linked to his death.' He fell silent and his mind appeared to wander.

‘We will know more when the physician finishes his examination,' the king said. ‘He has assured me he will present his findings late this afternoon.' Beniel's throat moved as though something were stuck in it. He cleared it again. ‘I will summon you again to hear the findings, Princess Benae. Until then, I would like you both to stay in your chambers.' Beniel stood and stalked from the room without another glance in her direction.

Benae did not know what to think.

‘Why did you not tell him about your pregnancy?' Ramón asked.

‘I did not think it was the right time. I wish to hear the report before I tell the king. Perhaps if the news is favourable, he will more readily accept the babe as Jiseve's and if not, it will not hurt that the news was delayed.'

Ramón stiffened. ‘I forget how practised you are in
dealing
with people, lady.'

‘
I
am practised?' she snapped. ‘You avoided answering the king's question quite expertly, I noticed.' She wondered if they really knew each other, if they could ever have made each other happy.

‘I will take my leave until this afternoon.' Ramón turned and left.

The chamberlain appeared in the doorway and Benae sighed as she moved to join him. She was little more than a prisoner in her own home but a future still might be salvaged, depending on that report.

The summons came almost at the dinner hour and Benae cursed the timing. She needed sustenance if she was to face bad news but the king's man had arrived to escort her and she dared not argue. She ground her teeth at being treated like a criminal but, for her babe's sake, she must be meek, must guard her tongue. She had never thought pregnancy would make her so vulnerable.

The king awaited her in the grand audience chamber. The formality of the hall made her hands clammy and she had to force herself not to wipe them on her black skirts. Benae was announced and paused just inside the open doors. She took a deep breath and scanned the room. A dozen chairs were drawn up and in them sat Lieutenant Vorasava, Ramón, the physician Damald Monive and Beniel's nephew, Piotr Zialni. The masters of the guilds were also in attendance. A spasm hit Benae's stomach and she swallowed, now glad she had not eaten.

King Beniel stood and pointed to a chair to the left of his on the dais. ‘Please be seated, Princess Benae.' He resumed his throne, stony-faced.

Benae sat and cast her gaze at the men gathered before her. It felt like a trial but she reminded herself that it was not one. She was familiar with what that entailed and knew that she would have notice if she were expected to defend herself. Ramón looked stern but the slight tremor of his fingers betrayed deeper feelings. He did not meet her gaze.

Damald Monive was a gaunt, balding man who looked bored with the proceedings already. Vorasava frowned at her as if he no longer knew how to treat his mistress. Piotr frowned at her, quirking one eyebrow. He had an unruly shock of sandy-coloured hair and was roughly her age. His protruding stomach and lacy collar proclaimed him to have lived a privileged life. What did Piotr's presence mean? Was the king ready to hand control of Brightcastle to his nephew? After this morning, that could well be the case.

Benae was brought back to the matter at hand by the king.

‘I have gathered you all to hear the report of our court physician Damald Monive. He has been charged with finding a cause of death for our beloved brother, Jiseve Zialni, the master of this castle and its lands and my heir.' Beniel's voice broke and Benae found his burning gaze upon her. Oh yes, he blamed her.

Beniel cleared his throat three times before he continued. ‘I had not thought to be in this position. We bury our dear brother tomorrow with the succession of our throne in question.' The silence following his words was absolute and Benae's jaw clenched with the strain. Without Princess Alecia, Piotr Zialni was next in line to the throne of Thorius and by the smirk on his face, Piotr fully expected to be given control of Brightcastle.

‘But let us address the matter at hand. Doctor Monive, please present your findings.'

The physician stood and strode to the centre of the dais, black robes swirling above his soft green slippers. He consulted the sheaf of papers in his hands and then met the eye of every person in the room.

‘I am grieved that I have had to examine the reasons for my prince's untimely death. I can confirm that his demise occurred in the marital bed.' At his words, all eyes swept to Benae. She raised her head and focused her attention on the physician. ‘External physical examination revealed nothing.'

Again, absolute quiet cloaked the hall as the physician paused. Benae's heart raced, causing an ache in her breastbone. All would be well, she just had to believe that.

‘With nothing obvious externally, I explored beneath the skin.' At this, the king cleared his throat, glaring at the doctor. Benae forced her mind away from the thought of the surgeon slicing into her husband.

‘Yes, well,' Monive said, wiping a hand across his forehead, ‘to continue, Prince Zialni's heart was discoloured and the inside structure was destroyed, leading me to conclude that this organ failed. You will all no doubt be stunned to hear this, considering the prince was a fit man and, some would argue, in his prime.'

Damald Monive paused for effect and Benae swallowed hard on the fear that threatened to choke her. She clung to the fact that she had done nothing wrong, at least not since her marriage. She had been a faithful wife, fulfilling her duty each and every night, enduring Jiseve's abuse. It had been a nightmare but she had not been responsible for his death. She stared at Ramón and his gaze met hers. For just a moment, fear and desperation stood clear in his eyes and then he looked away. If she knew him at all, those emotions would be for her, not for him. She hoped he did not speak up before all was resolved. Much could be salvaged if the Goddess favoured them.

The physician continued. ‘Since the prince's heart bore such damage, I have performed various tests on the bodily fluids, looking for poisons, bad humours and other substances. I also examined a wine glass, found in his chambers, which contained a curious sediment.'